First, a message for all Mochese people living off-island: Ai kapwong chappur ngani kemi monson! Iei Alex, naun Moch Peace Corps Volunteer. Ausekan mochen, pwe aami aupwe le makkei are typeni aami emails o tingalo ngani: mochschool@gmail.com. Nauch we principal Aka Raymond a tungoriei pwe ipwe alisirr le connectini ngani ach ei Internet. Iwe, aupwe le achocho le chiechifengen remem won Internet! Killisou chappur!
Second, a THANK YOU to everyone who has sent letters and/or packages. Most sincerely: thank you to my friends at Swartz Creek UMC for their donation of computer toner and ink for our printers. We have already put them to great use during Finals Week. School has adjourned for the year, and our 8th graduation is set for next week. I am looking forward to enjoying my summer break and seeing what blessings are in store for me next.
The island has just received a satellite dish and internet hook-up care of the Secretariat of the Pacific Community (SPC). Technicians installed the equipment on June 9, and we've been online since. The signal strength is okay; faster than dial-up, but still not as fast as a cable connection in the US. This means downloading and uploading take a good bit of time, but using Skype and browsing websites is completely doable. If you don't have Skype, go download it and go buy a microphone (for like $5 from BestBuy) and we can talk for free anytime!
Our "Camp Boys to Men" takes place next week. Hosting about 25 or so boys from the islands of the Mortlocks to come and talk about issues important to their personal development: school success strategies, mental health and substance abuse, and finally promoting healthy relationships. It will be 4 days long and starts next Wednesday. We are excited, so stay tuned for more information and plenty of pictures!
All is well on Moch and I hope all is well with you! Send a message soon.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
An Indirect Culture
My friend Sonson committed suicide 3 weeks ago in response to his father's edict that Sonson not marry the girl he had been dating for some months. After a 3 day drunken binge, he hanged himself with an a-frame tshirt on the fence of the Chuuk State Supreme Court building, knowing his father would find him when he arrived there for work in the morning.
This example is perhaps the most illustrative, in my experience, of Chuuk's indirect culture. The anger and frustration and pain that Sonson felt as a result of his family's rejection of the "love of his life" found no outlet. And that's because people here do not talk about their feelings with one another. Families do not address issues head-on; instead, they show how they feel through indirect cues: silence, absence, not cooking meals, not doing the laundry, getting drunk, becoming abusive. Eventually, frustration and pain go away, or they get buried deep down, and folks move on. When pain and sadness don't go away, however, and its not culturally appropriate to express yourself with your family or your friends or even a neutral third party, what's left? For Sonson, it was the ultimate show of indirect anger and pain: "look what YOU made me do."
I don't mean to suggest that people here are fundamentally broken or that families are "messed up" or noncommunicative. They simply express themselves in a way that we, as Americans, find confusing, circuitous, and complex. You'll never hear a mother praise or compliment her daughter - in private or in public. In fact, you'd be more likely to hear the mother call her daughter stupid, ugly, incompetent, and lazy IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE before you'd ever hear her say "oh her hair is just so beautiful, isn't it?" It's not that her mother thinks those things - certainly not! But in this culture, a mother would never think to be so ostentatious or conceited as to brag about her daughter. By saying all the negatives, the listener automatically rejects them as clearly false, and is left with the impression that the girl is simply quiet, sweet, humble, and respectful of her mother sitting next to her. And by replying in kind, the listener is able to flatter both the mother and the daughter in what amounts to the most indirect conversation of one's life. I've actually seen this happen, in person, when a young man came to ask my cousin's family for permission to marry her. The speeches were enough to make you think she was worthless. Until the young man, while shaking his head, effectively said: it doesn't matter, I still want to marry her. And the blessing was sealed.
This cultural passivity and indirectness has affected me, too. While living on Satowan, I errantly listened to my host family tell me they didn't want me to pay them a monthly host family allowance. (Peace Corps encourages us to give between $50-$75 each month to our families for food and other expenses). Knowing that my host family was rather well-off, I thought they were just proud to be able to host me, and I worried that if I forced the issue or gave them money anyway, I might offend them or appear to be the "American" and not the "son" I wanted to be. Of course, by refusing to accept the money, they were just being indirect. If I'd asked again, they would have still said no. But if I'd insisted, they would have relented and done so gratefully. It took me a few months of reading between the lines (late or no meals; laundry once a month; weird glances; lots of silence) before I realized there was even a problem, and then still longer before I realized it was all because I was too eager to not pay them each month. I blame myself for being miserly and too eager to not pay them. Now that I'm on Moch, that situation almost replayed itself, until the fourth or fifth time I demanded that my host family give me a dollar figure each month, and we made an agreement. Although its not culturally appropriate to have a conversation about money each month, I do because, for me, it's not worth suffering through the indirectness and resultant guilt and embarrassment.
So what does this mean? I don't know. I'm not trying to draw any big conclusions. These are just observations about a culture and a way of dealing with feelings that we, in America, would consider to be unhealthy and counter-productive. I'm not going to say that they are always unhealthy and counter-productive, but the alarming rate of suicide per capita speaks for itself. For these reasons, mental health (really, just being aware of what depression means and what you can do to get help) is going to be an important part of our camp in June. Here in Chuuk, there is a department in the Public Health sector called SAMH (Substance Abuse and Mental Health). SAMH has been negligent in presenting information about mental health, in my opinion, when they make presentations to youth. Twice in as many months, a SAMH representative has been to the Mortlocks to give a presentation. One was an assembly for HS students on Moch talking about the risk of cancer from smoking cigarettes and inhaling second-hand smoke. The other was an assembly for the Protestant youth groups during the Easter rally where they talked all about cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, and betel nut, and their negative effects. Mental health just gets glossed over, again, because its culturally difficult (if not impossible) to speak directly and frankly about feelings, sadness, and suicide.
Maybe camp will be a first step in that direction. In memory of Sonson, and for future boys who might think like him, I hope we can do something.
This example is perhaps the most illustrative, in my experience, of Chuuk's indirect culture. The anger and frustration and pain that Sonson felt as a result of his family's rejection of the "love of his life" found no outlet. And that's because people here do not talk about their feelings with one another. Families do not address issues head-on; instead, they show how they feel through indirect cues: silence, absence, not cooking meals, not doing the laundry, getting drunk, becoming abusive. Eventually, frustration and pain go away, or they get buried deep down, and folks move on. When pain and sadness don't go away, however, and its not culturally appropriate to express yourself with your family or your friends or even a neutral third party, what's left? For Sonson, it was the ultimate show of indirect anger and pain: "look what YOU made me do."
I don't mean to suggest that people here are fundamentally broken or that families are "messed up" or noncommunicative. They simply express themselves in a way that we, as Americans, find confusing, circuitous, and complex. You'll never hear a mother praise or compliment her daughter - in private or in public. In fact, you'd be more likely to hear the mother call her daughter stupid, ugly, incompetent, and lazy IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE before you'd ever hear her say "oh her hair is just so beautiful, isn't it?" It's not that her mother thinks those things - certainly not! But in this culture, a mother would never think to be so ostentatious or conceited as to brag about her daughter. By saying all the negatives, the listener automatically rejects them as clearly false, and is left with the impression that the girl is simply quiet, sweet, humble, and respectful of her mother sitting next to her. And by replying in kind, the listener is able to flatter both the mother and the daughter in what amounts to the most indirect conversation of one's life. I've actually seen this happen, in person, when a young man came to ask my cousin's family for permission to marry her. The speeches were enough to make you think she was worthless. Until the young man, while shaking his head, effectively said: it doesn't matter, I still want to marry her. And the blessing was sealed.
This cultural passivity and indirectness has affected me, too. While living on Satowan, I errantly listened to my host family tell me they didn't want me to pay them a monthly host family allowance. (Peace Corps encourages us to give between $50-$75 each month to our families for food and other expenses). Knowing that my host family was rather well-off, I thought they were just proud to be able to host me, and I worried that if I forced the issue or gave them money anyway, I might offend them or appear to be the "American" and not the "son" I wanted to be. Of course, by refusing to accept the money, they were just being indirect. If I'd asked again, they would have still said no. But if I'd insisted, they would have relented and done so gratefully. It took me a few months of reading between the lines (late or no meals; laundry once a month; weird glances; lots of silence) before I realized there was even a problem, and then still longer before I realized it was all because I was too eager to not pay them each month. I blame myself for being miserly and too eager to not pay them. Now that I'm on Moch, that situation almost replayed itself, until the fourth or fifth time I demanded that my host family give me a dollar figure each month, and we made an agreement. Although its not culturally appropriate to have a conversation about money each month, I do because, for me, it's not worth suffering through the indirectness and resultant guilt and embarrassment.
So what does this mean? I don't know. I'm not trying to draw any big conclusions. These are just observations about a culture and a way of dealing with feelings that we, in America, would consider to be unhealthy and counter-productive. I'm not going to say that they are always unhealthy and counter-productive, but the alarming rate of suicide per capita speaks for itself. For these reasons, mental health (really, just being aware of what depression means and what you can do to get help) is going to be an important part of our camp in June. Here in Chuuk, there is a department in the Public Health sector called SAMH (Substance Abuse and Mental Health). SAMH has been negligent in presenting information about mental health, in my opinion, when they make presentations to youth. Twice in as many months, a SAMH representative has been to the Mortlocks to give a presentation. One was an assembly for HS students on Moch talking about the risk of cancer from smoking cigarettes and inhaling second-hand smoke. The other was an assembly for the Protestant youth groups during the Easter rally where they talked all about cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, and betel nut, and their negative effects. Mental health just gets glossed over, again, because its culturally difficult (if not impossible) to speak directly and frankly about feelings, sadness, and suicide.
Maybe camp will be a first step in that direction. In memory of Sonson, and for future boys who might think like him, I hope we can do something.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Camp Boys to Men
For years, Peace Corps worldwide has had a special focus on ensuring successful girls' development. Many posts hold an annual summer camp called "Camp GLOW" (Girls Leading Our World) focusing on issues pertinent to girls - physical, social, and educational development. Some PCVs were talking back in December about the success of the Camp GLOW project in Pohnpei, but were bemoaning the fact that boys development has been inadvertently neglected in the process. Here in Chuuk, boys stand to benefit greatly from such a personal-development-themed camp. So, with 2 other PCVs from the Mortlocks (Dan on Kuttu and Trevor on Ta), I authored a grant through the Australian Embassy's Direct Aid Program for $2,700 USD to run a camp. It was awarded in February, and so from June 16-19, the first annual Mortlocks Camp Boys to Men will be held on Moch!
Boys, on average, start smoking at age 13. They start drinking alcohol by 14-15. And they become sexually active as early as 13. About 25% of each graduating 8th grade class will not continue on to high school. And, anecdotally, if you ask a young man if they've been affected by suicide, almost every time they'll be able to give the name of a family member who has taken their own life. *(I was devastated to find out that a 24 year old guy named Sonson took his own life in March. He had worked at the hotel which hosted all the Peace Corps functions in Chuuk, and was a friend to our PCV community.) Substance abuse, mental health, reproductive health, and simply understanding the importance of education are not treated sufficiently here. In America, we take it for granted that we get sex-ed in 5th grade, again in health class in 8th grade, and then in health class in 10th grade. The rule of law prevents (most of) us from smoking before 18 or drinking before...18. We're conditioned to talk about our problems and thus are able to (much of the time) avert problems before they become serious mental health issues. The culture here, however, is not so hands-on.
So, we 3 PCVs in the Mortlocks are addressing these issues head-on among the 30-some 14 year old 8th grade graduate boys from Satowan, Ta, Kuttu, and Moch Islands over 4 days in a culturally-sensitive way. I'm in Weno for the week to process the payment, open a bank account, make some purchases, and otherwise organize it so we're set to go in June. While we can't make kids stop smoking, hopefully just having conversations and giving them the critical thinking skills to make connections between decisions and their long-term health will move them along a better and more sustainable path in life.
Boys, on average, start smoking at age 13. They start drinking alcohol by 14-15. And they become sexually active as early as 13. About 25% of each graduating 8th grade class will not continue on to high school. And, anecdotally, if you ask a young man if they've been affected by suicide, almost every time they'll be able to give the name of a family member who has taken their own life. *(I was devastated to find out that a 24 year old guy named Sonson took his own life in March. He had worked at the hotel which hosted all the Peace Corps functions in Chuuk, and was a friend to our PCV community.) Substance abuse, mental health, reproductive health, and simply understanding the importance of education are not treated sufficiently here. In America, we take it for granted that we get sex-ed in 5th grade, again in health class in 8th grade, and then in health class in 10th grade. The rule of law prevents (most of) us from smoking before 18 or drinking before...18. We're conditioned to talk about our problems and thus are able to (much of the time) avert problems before they become serious mental health issues. The culture here, however, is not so hands-on.
So, we 3 PCVs in the Mortlocks are addressing these issues head-on among the 30-some 14 year old 8th grade graduate boys from Satowan, Ta, Kuttu, and Moch Islands over 4 days in a culturally-sensitive way. I'm in Weno for the week to process the payment, open a bank account, make some purchases, and otherwise organize it so we're set to go in June. While we can't make kids stop smoking, hopefully just having conversations and giving them the critical thinking skills to make connections between decisions and their long-term health will move them along a better and more sustainable path in life.
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